burn, burn, burn

Once upon a time at my high school graduation, I stared at a football stadium full of people and I quoted Jack Kerouac's character, Sal, from On the Road. Early in Kerouac's novel, Sal explains:

“...the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

At the time I was wide eyed and full of idealistic energy. I proudly quoted the beatnik writer as an advocate for a life passionately lived. I was sure that I would use the words as a mantra while I set the world ablaze. Though I lacked direction, I did know that whatever I'd end up doing, I wanted it to mean something. I wanted to be a force unpredictable, even if that meant a facing some danger along the way.

Fast forward several years, and living up to my expectations became a lot tougher. But then 50-60 hours of work a week happened. A court case happened. Then working with one of the most at-risk populations, the hardest grade level, and chaotic workplaces happened. Then bad habits happened. Anxiety happened. Traumatic life events happened. A strained, and at times problematic, relationship happened. Survival mode happened.

Now, a full 7 years into adulthood later, it's time to check myself: am I one of the mad ones? Not quite. The adult me has learned that routines keep you disciplined and reveal your dedication. But can also lead to the commonplace. I've learned that trials of life can leave you feeling beat down, thus creating a desire to seek comfort. While comfort sounds fine and dandy this is an idea that I once publicly dismissed. These are adult things that I've used to cope with all that's been tough. And they've helped-- but at what cost?

Yes, life is hard. And yes, I've been through a lot-- more than I probably could've fathomed at that day I stood behind the podium. But the 18 year old me knows that's not an excuse. So can I still burn like a fabulous yellow roman candle? Or did my flare burn out?

Reap what you sow

Getting a tattoo can be a nerve-wracking process that can involve a lot of questioning and a moderate amount of soul searching. Depending on one's school of thought on getting tattooed, these questions one might ask include: what? where (both place and placement)? in what style? by whom? why? ARE YOU SURE? when? ARE YOU REALLY SURE? Some people get tattooed for "deep" reasons (connecting with culture, a visceral memory, affiliation to faith or gang), some as an expression of personality, some for more aesthetic reasons (these monmon cats look dope af!). None of these are wrong way. 

If you really think those monmon cats are just plain cool, you're not alone, because I do, too. A tattoo is a personal expression, meaning that the judgement that ultimately matters comes from the wearer. 

That all being said, I figured I'd blog to document my process of getting my most recent ink: freehand lettering that says "Reap what you sow" done by Tony Salgado at Por Vida Tattoo in Upland, California (IE REPRESENT!)

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"But peace to the people who don't ever preach in the front of a classroom. All day long, planting seeds of revolution, We dedicate this song."

- bars from "Commencement Day" by Blue Scholars

"A classroom is always a reflection of its teacher."

- teaching wisdom

I'm not sure where, or from who I first heard that a classroom reflects its teacher, but it's a truth that I've come to sincerely believe. Sometimes this is a bitter pill to swallow. If your student's are disorganized, a reflective teacher asks "how am I facilitating their organization?" If students display negativity, either in attitude or language, a reflective teacher asks "how am I fostering a culture of positivity?" This idea makes a lot of sense-- our youth are impressionable, reactive, and learn from adults that serve as role models. While it's impossible for even master teachers to dictate every single thing that happens within the walls of their classroom, I have found it essential to my practice to ask myself why certain things happen. Why is Tyrone reacting like that? What seeds am I planting? It's almost impossible for teachers to see or predict the impact their practice might have on a student. Instead, we must have faith that we're sowing and watering the right seeds. (Please grow to be a revolutionary, a lifelong learner, a good person, please!)

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As the screenshot from urban dictionary above points out, "Reap what you sow" has biblical origins. The part of Galatians that this comes from is referred to by some Biblical scholars as the Law of Christ, which essentially functions as a New Testament fulfillment of the Ten Commandments. As beautifully stated by whoever wrote that urban dictionary entry, it is an expression of "the basic nature of God's justice." It alludes to nature in a literal sense-- reap and sow are verbs borrowed from agriculture. And if you can't tell by the name of this blog, nature metaphors work for me. 

After all, if the nature of the universe resembles the natural world around us, this makes sense (and not in an exclusively Christian way). Not only are we told this by soil that grows the food that nourishes us, we were taught this when we learned about "cause and effect" in elementary school. We're even told this by music artists like the New Radicals ("we only get what we give!") and Kendrick Lamar on "Alright." The prodigious emcee spits "Lord knows 20 of 'em in my Chevy, tell 'em all to come and get me Reapin' everything I sow, so my karma come," reminding us that this biblical idea isn't all that different from Eastern karma.  

This is important to remember in a world where countless years of injustice have led to systems of oppression that have made justice complicated, convoluted, and difficult to attain. As I continue to ponder attending law school, the nature of justice is something I always want to have in the back of my mind, now aided by the words on the top of my chest. 

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This tattoo, like my first two, are done in the black and grey tradition that is native to Southern California, to barrios, to prisons and to OGs. While I'm acutely aware that I am not Chicano, I did grow up in the Inland Empire, and developed an aesthetic tastes while surrounded by diverse cultures. Black and grey and lettering tattoos are things that I've seen around me my whole life. While American traditional, Japanese, and Pacific Island style tattoos all pique my attention, black and grey has felt right to me so far. 

Tony Salgado does great black and grey work, and lettering in particular. His work speaks for itself, and he's as West Coast OG as they come (he schooled me on the 909s own Suga free!). His shop, Por Vida Tattoo, is located in none other than the city in which I was reaped: Upland, California.

Reunited: A Sneakhead's Love Affair

 "Chamber of Fear" Nike Ad from the 2004/2005 NBA season

By the time I was 14 years old, the sneakerhead bug had already bit me. I had been one of the first kids at my junior high to rock Nike Dunks. I regularly lurked Niketalk.com and Kicksology.net to learn about release dates, read up on performance reviews, and look at as many high quality pictures as my slow, early 2000s internet connection would allow. But it wasn't until December 2004 until I owned my first athlete-inspired signature shoe: the Nike Zoom LeBron II.

Masked LeBron going up for a layup against Lamar n the II's

Now don't get me wrong, I had owned plenty of memorable sneakers prior to this. Whether we're talking And 1 shoes like the flashy Silky Smooth or Nike Basketball performance beasts like the Zoom Flight Turbine or the Zoom Ultraflight, I always made sure I laced up something nice for my Rancho Cucamonga city league games. But coming from an immigrant Pilipino family, I had always been taught to spend frugally and look for the best deals possible. More often than not, this meant shying away from the often more expensive, hype-driven athlete signature models (no Jordans for this kid or Adidas Kobes for this kid!). 

That all changed with the LeBron II. I remember first seeing pictures of them on Niketalk and being hooked. The shoe had a lot going for it: a Double-stacked, full length Zoom Air unit promised for a responsive cushioning setup that would be conducive for attacking the basket. Nike had just started to use laser-engraving technologies to provide ornate decoration. The shoe's shape and strap took style cues from the ever-popular Air Force 1, and provided a great lock down fit in addition to style points. The "Chamber of Fear" advertising campaign inspired by Bruce Lee and Wu-Tang Clan was imaginative, fueled the hype, and sent me some limited promotional items that I still have today.

Promo Poster, still up in my
room at my Parents'

On top of all that, the shoe had a hell of an endorsing athlete. King James was in just his second year in the league, and was already living up to hype, having averaged 20/6/5 during his rookie campaign. I had been a LeBron fan since his Junior year of high school, when he wrote the diary column in SLAM magazine. He was a 6'8" with the court vision that rivaled any point guard and could jump out of the gym. While still young, he played with unselfishness, flare, and tenacity. Back then, LeBron was pretty much universal likeable (Oh, how times have changed...).

And so in December 2004, I ponied up about $90 to buy them, using a 30% Friends and Family coupon to buy them at Footlocker at the  Montclair Plaza Mall. It was the most I had ever paid for a pair of shoes. I rocked the shit out of them throughout 2 city league seasons, fearlessly taking it to the hoop knowing my feet were locked down, ankles were secure, and that I would have impact protection on the way down. My homie, Karl, bought em too, and we went through a whole season as teammates terrorizing opposing backcourts while looking fly with matching kicks and haircuts (see video below). I rocked them for hooping, casually, to church, and pretty much everywhere else.



Then I let my next door neighbor, Errol, borrow them for some reason and he lost them or something. I'm not sure why I let him (never letting you borrow my shit again Eggroll!), but I thought that was the end for my love affair with the Zoom LeBron II.

And it was! Until I finally, after 10 years and many subsequent pairs of Nike basketball signature shoes that I loved ALMOST as much, hunted down a pair on eBay. I'm nowhere NEAR as big a LeBron fan I was then (you lost me when you left Cleveland, and have yet to regain me now that you're back), but I still love this shoe. And what's not to love? Double-stacked full-length Zoom Air for less than one bill? Nike hardly puts a single-stacked full-length zoom air in kicks anymore! Reunited, and the cushioning STILL feels so good.

my recently purchased pair. thank you eBay!